Cursed
by swift hunter
Summary: Movieverse: A short multi-chapter tale involving Ms. James and exploring her previous history. Post 'The Newbie'
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellboy. Ms. James on the other hand....

Summary: Ms. James is a very strange character to keep around. I gather that. However, there _are _reasons why. There are also reasons for her being as crazy as she is.

* * *

"So…let me get this straight." Two fingers gripped the bridge of the man's nose; a preemptive strike against the tension headache that was in the making.

He opened his eyes against the fluorescent light and leveled his glare at Manning.

"You've got a Demon from Hell, a woman who can burst into flames at a whim and a fish man living in fifty-one…and you want _extra_ funding to convert three adjacent storage closets into rooms for this.." The man haphazardly flipped the cover on the rather large file. " …Ms. James." He finished in a rather disbelieving tone.

Manning absently swallowed the remainders of another antacid. He leaned back folding his hands behind his head.

"Actually, it's only two." Manning remarked offhand.

The Washington man harrumphed.

"I…see" He didn't sound anymore enthusiastic about it.

Manning could and couldn't understand the man's reluctance to issue them extra funding. Okay, the bureau was a pretty well funded organization. Those vault doors that Liz Sherman liked to occasionally blow down weren't in anyway cheap and Red's 'nutritional requirements' put one hell of a sizable hole in the weekly budget. But of course, they were the BPRD stars. If Hellboy put in a request for a solid gold litter tray for every single one of his cats, the people in Washington would blink a few times at the form and write Manning a cheque. However, Ms. James couldn't burst into flames, she couldn't put her hand on something and tell you what it had for breakfast and she most certainly couldn't kill anything more than her blueberry pancakes. As measly as the seventeen thousand was to accommodate her, because she wasn't a big blip on the Washington radar someone had to come down and approve the request.

And the reason for moving Ms. James to the base?

It had taken Manning two hours to stop laughing when he'd been told what happened. Basically, Ms James, the ever hated little paranormal magnet, had officially brought her work home with her. For the first time in her year at the Bureau, the forces of darkness and all things _slimy_ had crashed Ms. James' apartment at four am.

As much damage as the creatures had done as they'd plowed through her living room and burst down her front door in their hasty exit, Ms. James had done the most damage as she'd run around the apartment screaming.

And that had been before the stupid woman had gotten hold of an aerosol can and a lighter.

The team had arrived to find the Fire Brigade fighting back the flames engulfing the woman's apartment building. She'd not only burned down her own home…but two apartments each side of her and the one above.

It would have been much funnier if it hadn't have been so damn expensive.

The man coughed, drawing Manning's attention back to him.

"Tom, you've got to see this from our point of view. Washington has no problem signing off on anything regarding Hellboy or his two associates…however, she has no skills, no social abilities and there are some damning reports made by your very own agents on the _unsuitability_ of this woman for the Bureau." He desperately wanted Manning to understand his reasoning for the denial that was about to come.

The Washington man pulled a page from the file and studied it.

"Look here! Hellboy himself said, and I'm quoting word for word here, 'You just keep that chick away from me and if I catch her even blinkin' at my cats again I'll nail her ass to the wall with Big Baby.'" The man recited calmly. "Agent Manning, not only do I not feel you deserve the funding, but unless you can convince me otherwise, I'm going to put forward an order to terminate her employment immediately." The Washington man sternly reprimanded.

There was a heavy silence between the two men. The Washington man was waiting irritably for an answer while Tom Manning just seemed to slouch back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"You know how many black suits I own, Davis?" Manning's question just came right out of the blue. Its casualness startled the other man.

"No. No I don't." He gruffly replied.

Manning popped in another antacid and sighed.

"I own five black suits, Davis. _Five_. Considering I only have two work suits and a handful of casual clothing, that should say something." He sounded very depressed. "Last year I was attending more funerals a month than meetings. I know it's a hazard of the job...but this branch had one of the highest death rates in the _country_. Then little Miss Accident comes along with a reference from a Valac, of all things to give you work advice. And you know what happens?" He asked the Washington man.

The man in question had absolutely no idea what the hell a Valac was, and personally didn't want to.

"Then it all stops. We've now got one of the highest success rates and you know what…" He added smugly. "in the last year we've only had one death." He spread his hands in a gesture of bewilderment. "And that guy choked on a handful of peanuts."

The Washington man laughed at the very concept.

"Wait a second. Ms. James has absolutely no hidden talents. She's not smart. She's not athletic. She's not.." The Washington man was about to say something along the lines of pretty and attractive but thought the better of it. "..a typical man's _type._ How can you sit there and defend her? She's not special. Not in the Human way...and not in the.."He struggled to come up with another word. "..._not_ Human way." He ground out with difficulty.

Manning found himself on his last antacid for the fifth time in three days.

"No. But she is cursed." Manning smiled.

The man's frustration cooled instantly.

"What do you mean..._cursed_?" He questioned.

Manning let his smile widen a little more than his usual triumphant grin.

"Oh, she's not smart, or in any way talented...but she doesn't have to be. The woman is a walking magnet for the odd, bizarre and a lot of the time, utterly disgusting. How much of her file have you read?" Manning asked.

The Washington man fumbled with the file as he desperately flicked through the pages for something that he'd missed.

"I read the whole thing. Why?"

Manning pulled the file over and pulled out a CD that had been taped to the back panel. He held it up for the man's inspection.

"On here is a recording of her interview...and a recording we made when we visited her old apartment. I'm gonna get us two cups of coffee. I'd take a listen if I were you and you can give me your answer when I get back." He suggested.

The Washington man took the CD with a great amount of nervous reluctance.

"Wh...what's on it? He stuttered.

Manning smiled knowingly.

"You'll find out..."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellboy. Ms. James on the other hand....

Summary: Ms. James is a very strange character to keep around. I gather that. However, there _are _reasons why. There are also reasons for her being as crazy as she is.

* * *

Coffee just wasn't enough.

Manning would have offered the Washington man something stronger but scared was good in this case. Scared shitless was even better but this was someone working for the BPRD. The chances of a recording- albeit, a horrible, faith-in-God destroying recording- breaking the spine of the man in front of him was so preposterous it wasn't even worth entertaining.

The Washington man looked up from his untouched coffee cup and to Manning's horror and surprise, he hiccupped.

So much for the Agent's previous notions of an intact spine. Perhaps some liquid courage was needed after all.

"I could get you something stronger, if you like?" Manning quietly offered. Not usually so generous but the sight of the man's shaking hands had made him understandably guilty. That's not to say that it wasn't necessary but still, his hands felt dirty. No decent person should sit through that. Now that this was over, hopefully no one would ever sit through it again.

Manning eyed the laptop containing the disk and contemplated destroying it all; laptop included. He shook his head to clear the thoughts away. That was the fear talking. Well, whatever he had left that passed as fear. He was afraid- figuratively speaking of course- that that ship had sailed and he was no longer on it. Facing nightmares every day creates a sort of strange detachment to ones own feelings. Generally speaking, if it wasn't plain old frustration bubbling up inside him and churning the contents of his stomach like a stew pot he may have actually needed to sit down and _think_ about it. Fear was an increasingly distant novelty in his line of work.

So far, that is since he started in this job anyway, the only thing that had come close to scaring him had been that recording. Three men had died to get it. Their gruesome deaths weren't even the scary part of the whole thing. No. The thing that killed them was the scary part. No second rate monster. No maniacal, egotistic moron. No. This was a true Demon. Birthed in Hellfire, raised in Hell and set loose upon an unsuspecting world; and it didn't have the luxury of Red's upbringing.

"H-how long was she living with that-that _thing_, again?" The Washington man had finally gathered what was left of his wits; enough to voice a simple question at least.

Manning laughed almost senselessly.

"Three years, would you believe it? Daft woman said he was the best room mate she'd ever had." Manning leaned forward and lowered his voice. It was almost as though he expected Hellboy to be able to hear him otherwise. "You know that she's allergic to cats, well, the Valac just so happened to eat all the animals in her apartment building and apparently that was its main endearing quality for Ms. James. As far as we can tell, it never so much as scratched her." The Washington man looked bewildered.

"Why?" He asked confusedly.

"Why what?" Manning deadpanned.

The Washington man threw his hands above his head as though beseeching answers from on high.

"TO EVERYTHING!!" He shouted.

Manning was afraid that his learned friend had finally reached the point of no return; he was worried that the man would jump out of his chair, run out of the building and have himself committed for a very indefinite period of time. That wasn't good. Manning had no intentions of ever doing _this_ again. Not with replacements for cracked agents…not _ever_.

"Why don't I tell you everything I know? How 'bout that? Then when I'm done if you still have questions we can go on from there." The antacid popping, balding agent had become adept at calming hysterical people. He often wondered why someone who hated doing it would be so damn good. Some new form of torture, he wagered.

The Washington man nodded.

"_He gives true answers concerning hidden treasures and where serpents may be seen; delivering them harmless to the magician__._" Manning recited the small passage from memory and smiled as his words were slowly digested. "This is the Valac. There's a lot of other stuff about it in the old texts, but it can't be verified. We've _very_ little to go on." Although Agent Davis hadn't seen when he started, Manning was now chewing another antacid. "We do know that it's important. It's a major player in its hometown and it's not in anyway fond of people." Manning chuckled softly to himself. "Something I'd say he has in common with Ms. James." He paused to make sure that the man was following so far. The Washington man was still mute but attentive.

"In simple terms, the passage describes the Valac's methodology but in the older scripts there's a warning to those looking for the damn thing, as well. While it does offer something of value; a kind of good fortune homing beacon, there's a price." Manning shrugged amusedly. "Trickster Demons, what other kind are there?" He joked but it was lost on the shaking man. "Yeah, it told her about a job vacancy here but it cursed her at the same time. After all, doesn't help to be a monster magnet when you work in monster central. The thing probably thought that was funny or something. The irony kicks ass, doesn't it? Anyway a few months after we hired her we finally convinced Abe to try getting something off her. I mean, she was weird, and not in the Human way." Agent Manning's brow furrowed momentarily. "Ok, maybe in the Human way as well. But there was something off about her."

The man seated on the other side of the desk huffed. The woman had lived with that creature for three years; he didn't need anyone trying to convince him how crazy or weird she was.

Tom Manning continued.

"Abe was understandably reluctant what with her being crazy and all but I eventually pestered him into it. He swore blind that he wasn't to be within ten feet of her afterwards but he did pick up something interesting." The balding man smirked. If he hadn't spent a week tormenting Abe this would have never been discovered. It was his little triumph.

Agent Davis- the once near hysterical man- was much calmer now and had taken to fingering the cool surface of his untouched coffee mug. The facts had helped alleviate some of the primeval fear that had had him shaking in his shoes. It was still a scary subject, but he was coping better.

"He was the first to tell us that she was cursed…but he also told us that it hadn't turned out the way the Demon had hoped. Usually, summoning this thing is an act of evil. Said evil act in combination with the curse, spells death and destruction as far as the eye can see." Manning smirked. "But according to Abe, she didn't intentionally summon anything. It was accidental. Therefore no evil…and by extension no truly horrible side effects to the curse. In fact, the closer you are to her when the shit hits the fan, the better cause apparently nothing this curse summons can actually kill her." He wisely left out the deafness claims as a result to being within range of Ms. James's screaming. And she did scream. Constantly. Even after the monsters have been slain and the clean up crew are mobilizing, the woman would still be screaming at ear piercing levels.

The man perked up a little.

"Wouldn't a powerful Demon have figured that out? And why was it l-living…I mean, why didn't it kill her?" He finally stammered out. Much to Tom Manning's surprise. After all, they were very valid questions.

"We don't know precisely. There _are_ two very good possibilities. One of those is a peculiar habit Ms. James has; she doesn't like looking at people. She couldn't stare down a sleeping puppy if she tried so she never actually got a good look at the thing. That's something that Abe said might have saved her." Tom sighed. "Our other running theory is that because it thought she'd done the summoning it couldn't kill her." Manning reasoned. "As for why the Demon didn't figure it out..." He shrugged. "We all have our off days and the title 'Demon' doesn't exactly come with an automatic high I.Q...just look at Red." Tom Manning mumbled the last part.

Agent Theodore Davis slouched in his seat; utterly exhausted and absolutely drained. Manning had that knowing smile back on his face. A smile that Agent Davis would always remember as the herald of dark, scary things.

"Have you any more questions?" Tom Manning asked the wreck of a man.

"Are you still offering something stronger than coffee?" Was his reply.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Hellboy. Ms. James on the other hand....

Summary: Ms. James is a very strange character to keep around. I gather that. However, there _are _reasons why. There are also reasons for her being as crazy as she is.

* * *

You know, the term 'lost' could never really be applied to those who choose not to be found; the people who crawled into the darkest corner they could find and wouldn't make a squeak, wouldn't answer when you called them, wouldn't eat when they were hungry. Individuals so buried in their feelings and thoughts that even their own needs meant absolutely nothing to them.

Burdened, you could call it; lost perhaps in whatever reality they'd conjured. For Tom, sending out a base wide APB for 'lost' Agent James just didn't seem correct. Manning had long ago learned the importance of dotting and crossing the appropriate letters in his reports and orders, so it was understandable that he felt uncomfortable with the phrasing.

After all, it wasn't as if Ms. James had simply wandered into a quiet section of the base and gotten turned around. No, the woman knew every nook and cranny in the place. She wasn't 'lost'. He would have used 'missing' but as of late staff had been on edge; nervous for reasons unknown and the last thing he needed to do was cause a state of quiet panic. No, lost was a better option. If they found her they'd let him know, and if they didn't, they wouldn't be too worried by it. The woman had a reputation for weird behaviour and it wasn't the first time she'd disappeared on base. But never for this long.

She'd been gone just over twenty four hours; counting from her missed breakfast but he'd a feeling she'd left her room sometime in the night. The base perimeter hadn't been breached and Abe- though he did complain something fierce- confirmed that the wayward woman was still somewhere in the area. Someplace dark. The fish couldn't get anything more specific than that. Helpful as always.

Then there was the BPRD 'councillor', though she was technically a psychiatrist. She helped the staff deal with the psychological problems that came with the job and- much to Manning's displeasure- she was keeping tight lipped about all this. Said something about not all of the staff's problems being monster related…and basically that it was patient confidentiality. A very polite and ethically sound 'piss off' if Tom Manning had to describe it. Knowing Janet Hall, he was shocked she didn't just give him the finger and tell him to 'sing for it', like usual.

The BPRD councillor, what a lovely woman, really, whatever did he do to deserve her?

They'd only a handful of core Agents actively searching for Ms. James. Too keep the situation relatively quiet and disruption to a minimum. Much to Manning's irritation, Hellboy seemed to exact great pleasure in tearing her room apart in the search. It was possible she'd climbed into an unlisted vent, or something concealed behind a shelf or a wardrobe but he didn't need to appear so happy about his handiwork. Manning wasn't the only one displeased. Sherman had kicked her partner's shin so hard he'd left the room limping. She didn't have any love for the woman but even she saw the brutal assault on her meagre possessions, as criminal.

Janet had thrown a fit when she'd found out.

With a final, sharp disapproving look she disappeared, off to do whatever it was that Councillors did in their free time.

Of course, two hours later when Manning had abandoned his own personal search to retire to his office for a stiff drink, he found the resident psychiatrist sitting, comforting a rather pale looking nuisance. Turns out, in their spare time Councillors locate crazy women.

"Do you know how long we've been looking for you? Of all the reckless, inconsiderate…" Manning trailed off with the icy, warning glare that Hall shot him.

"Where were you?" He asked quietly. Any fire he'd had was effectively quenched in the cold waters that masqueraded as a councillor.

The psychiatrist, with a wave of her hand prompted the woman to ignore the question. She cooed softly to James.

"Don't worry about anything. When you're done here, I'll be in my office." She smiled sweetly at the woman but gave Manning a narrow eyed look that spoke volumes as to how he was to conduct his questioning.

He apparently wasn't to upset the woman any more than she'd already been upset.

Manning took a heavy seat and waited till the councillor's footsteps had retreated down the hall.

"Hello, Delores." He sighed. The woman had her red, swollen eyes fixed solidly on her lap. "You want to tell me what this was all about?" He asked as politely as he could.

"I didn't mean to worry you all." Her voice was dry and cracked. Lips chapped and skin pale.

Manning didn't immediately respond. Picking up his phone he contacted his Secretary. "Ann, I need a cup of coffee, no milk, no sugar and one mug of sweet tea, earl grey if we have it." He never looked away from the pitiful sight sitting across from him.

"Dee, don't lie to me. You couldn't care less how much you worry the others." Manning's eyes lifted to the ceiling in revelation. "To be honest, I'm not sure they even _were_ worried." He admitted.

The woman sobbed but recovered her voice quickly.

"I d-didn't mean to worry _you_." She quickly shot back.

Manning felt his face try and pull itself into a sort of sad smile. She'd actually meant that. As good as she'd become at lying, it was still easy to know that she was telling the truth. That stirred something in him; a feeling of pride and gratitude. This was an Agent that respected him, did what he said without question and never gave him any personal grief. She had a quiet, almost innocent way about her most of the time and though she was extremely unstable, she wasn't all that unpleasant to speak to. You just had to avoid certain topics.

One by one small pieces of a much larger picture fell into place in Manning's head. He cursed himself out loud as he realised something he'd been totally blind to. The psychiatrist knew. She'd all but spelled it out to him. They'd all spent so long dealing with supernatural monsters that they'd forgotten people could be monsters, too.

"I'm not going to fire you." He blurted out immediately.

The woman glanced up from her fidgeting fingers.

"You're not?" She spat out, utterly stunned. Her face almost animated despite the sunken features and bloodshot eyes.

Manning grinned.

"Despite what the others might think…what you think of yourself, I'm of the opinion that you might be somewhat important."

There was a soft rap on the door and a tall, middle aged, hard faced woman in a suit entered without any prompting. Balancing a tray on one hand she shut the door behind her. Manning offered her his thanks as she set the tea in front of the woman and passed him his coffee. She left without a word; not even a look in Delores' direction.

"I'm not important." Delores James muttered with a certain amount of conviction.

Manning took a tiny sip of molten coffee. The lunch room was a good five minutes across the base and yet his daily caffeine fix was always just a couple of degrees short of melting the cup. That woman never ceased to amaze him. He levelled a stern glare at Delores.

"What happened today? No lies, _please_." He asked.

The woman looked up into Manning's face.

"I had a nightmare…so I decided to get some air." She whispered.


End file.
